


This Quiet Company

by Yokan



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, I know, New Year's Eve, Yes Fluff, drunk!Caroline, grumpy!Klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yokan/pseuds/Yokan
Summary: Tyler is gone, Carol Lockwood is dead and Klaus has no hybrids left to restock his wine cellar for him. It's New Year's Eve, and he's suddenly lonely and regrettably sober. What he did not expect was to run into an equally dejected - and incredibly loose-tongued - Caroline Forbes at the Grill.Or: the story of Klaus and Caroline's real first kiss, which they do not talk about.[Canon-compliant AU. Set between 4x09 -O Come, All Ye Faithful- and 4x10]
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 129





	This Quiet Company

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought this one had survived The Great Purge when I deleted almost all of my fics a while back, but when I tried to find it, I couldn't. So here it is again! It's canon-compliant (of sorts) fluff (I KNOW!) with a New Year's Eve theme that I think is very fitting. :D
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it, and I would love to hear your thoughts if you do! ❤️ Drop me a note, make this writer's crappy 2020 New Year's Eve a little merrier! lol
> 
> I wish you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR and may 2021 bring you joy and good health and vaccines! Thank you to everyone who's been with me during this hellish year. Your support meant the WORLD! ❤️ Being in fandom, writing and reading fanfiction truly allowed me to disconnect from the General State of Things and I am so, so grateful! Hope this year can stay firmly behind us all!

"Proper vampires do not act like this," Caroline remarks halfway through a bottle of tequila - that Klaus has seen. She was already considerably inebriated by the time he arrived, so he can only speculate, given her vampire constitution, that this is at least her second. It takes a whole lot more than a couple of innocuous shots to get a vampire as drunk as Caroline is.

"Oh?" he indulges her, although he hasn't the slightest idea what she is referring to, or even if that's just another idle musing accidentally escaping her lips. She's had quite a few of those since he took the seat next to her by the bar. Some more interesting than others. He'll make sure to file all appropriately for further analysis in the future.

"Proper vampires do not spend New Year’s Eve at bars, getting drunk out of their asses."

"You'd be surprised, love."

"Look at you. A thousand years old and you have _nowhere_ better to be on New Year’s Eve than the Grill? Seriously? It's pathetic."

Klaus regards her studiously as he nurses his glass of bourbon - only his third - trying to work out whether or not to take offense on her snarky remark. In the aftermath of his hybrid massacre, almost all of the liquor stored at his mansion got consumed in record speed and he's gone unfortunately short on minions to carry out the daily tasks that are way beneath him such as grocery shopping and refilling his wine cellar. In order to carry on with his drunken marathon, he'd have to get out of the house, which he hadn't been doing much since that fateful evening. Not that he wouldn't prefer to snap a few necks in order to relieve some of the pent-up frustration still firmly harbored at the center of his chest, but this is one of those rare occasions when some temperance comes in order. Entire villages and a few kingdoms have been wiped out during similar crisis in the past, but the times have changed. Taking down an entire city at once in the 21st century would attract the kind of acclaim he appreciates, but the publicity he'd rather steer clear of. He's a terribly old-fashioned creature; the more technology advances, the more Klaus' impulses get hindered. It's such a nuisance. He did keep his fingers crossed that a couple of Salvatores would heedlessly cross his path, but alas. One dead Lockwood will have to suffice for the time being.

Still, he barely realized it was New Year’s Eve when he left the comfort of his lair to hopefully make his way through the Mystic Grill's alcoholic supplies. The information only vaguely registered in some far distant corner of his mind. His drinking spree has nothing to do with the date, everything to do with the lack of lackeys surrounding him due to an absurd and idiotic rebellion he was forced to quench against his own best interests.

He isn't aware of how involved Caroline was in the plot, but he'd frankly rather not know. He would hate to black list her. He does know, however, that if she was not so drunk out of her mind, the appropriate etiquette for vampires during holiday festivities would not be the theme of their conversation right now. There would hardly be any conversation at all. Klaus has been avoiding her like the plague, both because he's angry and because he's somewhat unwilling to find out that the murder of her insufferable boyfriend's mother is the straw that will break the delightful push-and-pull of their quaint relationship-of-sorts. And just when he thought they were finally making some progress...

The significance and celebrations surrounding the turn of the year have lost their appeal to him about 900 years ago, give or take, save for some noteworthy few. The turn of the millennium, for instance. Klaus doesn't often feel blessed, but he did have a special kind of appreciation for the marvel that was to be alive to see a new millennium, having lived it in its entirety. There were far too many times when he didn't think the Mikaelsons would last that long.

There's hardly anything remarkable about 2013, however. He'll feel like celebrating again when the year 3000 arrives - if he can resist the efforts of inconvenient teenagers who just refuse to take defeat and lay off trying to put him down, that is.

"What does that say about you, then?" he asks mildly.

"It says," she slurs, turning a little on her stool to look directly at him and point and accusatory finger. "That my boyfriend is currently MIA because _you_ have a prize on his head, so I don't have anyone to spend New Year’s Eve with."

"Is that your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse, it's fats. Fatcs. _Facts_."

"What about your mother?"

"Do you have any idea how many occurrences happen during New Year’s Eve? It's _by far_ the busiest time of the year for law enforcement and medical personnel. _Duh_."

"And where are all those annoying pesky friends of yours?"

"They have families of their own."

"The quarterback is currently napping in the backroom. Wake him up, go celebrate."

"He's working."

"We're the only two people at the bar."

Caroline stops, takes a good once over at the empty Grill, and snorts. "Great. Now we're both pathetic."

* * *

The night has been comprised of long periods of silence followed by disjointed bouts of conversation that end as abruptly as they start.

"Why are you here?" Caroline enquiries, another one of her random questions that sound more like a live commentary of what's rushing through her mind at the moment.

"Why not?"

"Aren't you rich or something? Can't you drink your own booze? Leave the bar for us, peasants."

"I felt sociable tonight."

She scoffs. "Bullshit. I want the truth. If I'm going to spend New Year’s Eve with you as my company, I deserve some goddamn truth."

Klaus looks down at his glass, moves it around to see the amber liquid swirling inside. "My hybrids are all dead."

"Because you killed them."

"Like I said. They're all dead."

"You know what's a good way not to get depressed over dead people? Maybe don't kill them yourself. Just a thought."

"What if they try to kill you first?"

"Don't enslave them and perhaps they won't want to."

"I merely required some due retribution for the grace of turning them into mirrors of the most powerful creature on earth _and_ freeing them from the pain of transforming into beasts every full moon. Ungrateful fools, all of them."

She frowns a little. "Do you even hear yourself talking?"

"Do you not agree that Tyler's quality of life was much improved after he became a hybrid? Was he not happier? I know for a fact that he had issues with his wolf form."

"You turned him into a soldier," Caroline says, tumbling over her words a little. "You didn't want to improve his life; you wanted a brainless minion to pick up your dry cleaning or pack your bags when you feel like going on holidays."

"And yet I did nothing against him when he escaped me, nor when he returned from the mountains with a beautiful brunette in tow and a broken sire bond. I let Tyler free. He could've just gone on living his life, finishing his school year, spending time with you, but he chose to turn all my hybrids against me, to embark on a foolish path of revenge that was dead before it even started."

"Because that backstabbing bitch betrayed him!" she counters, her voice an octave too high.

"See, Caroline, you say it's my fault you find yourself all alone on New Year’s Eve, but I think you're misdirecting your anger. It's not really me you're upset with. It's Tyler. Yes, I have some unresolved matters to settle with him, but what you're truly thinking right now is that he was _desperate_ for an excuse to leave again. He disappeared far too quickly, didn't he? And not for the first time, either. He'd left you before, spent months in tents and cozy log cabins and tiny trailers with the lovely Hayley and, upon his return, often favored her company over yours. She _got_ him in ways you never could, the struggle of being a hybrid, held his hand through dark times, was his shoulder to cry on, his _confidant_. He was up and down with her and the other hybrids, _bonding_ with his new friends, while his girlfriend remained neglected. You're a perceptive girl. You don't really believe there was nothing between the two of them, do you? Because my werewolf nose could smell the pheromones all over -"

"Shut up," she bellows, glowering. As he spoke, he watched her features becoming darker and darker, her nostrils flaring in anger, her lips pressed into such a tight line he could barely see them. But the words just kept tumbling out of his mouth, catching fire as they went, months and months of hardened resentment suddenly wanting out.

"Don't pretend to know anything about me or Tyler," she bites out.

Klaus just laughs wanly and leans over the counter to pour himself some more bourbon.

"I know everything about you, Caroline," he says. "All about you and Tyler and his little wolf friend and you're just annoyed because it's true."

The baby vampire pins him under her intense glare, but does not counter. Instead, she snatches the bottle of tequila and downs almost half of it at once.

* * *

There's a longer, spikier period of quietness, punctuated by a few infuriated glares. Well, he didn't say anything untrue. The delivery just happened to be a tad vinegary for maximum effect. He wanted to rile her up, of course, turn the game around for once.

He considers breaking the ice a few times, but decides to leave that up to her. If she's had her share of conversation for the evening, so be it. He'll respect as much. He's not feeling widely talkative either. Something tells him, however, that if Caroline was done with him, she would've just marched out and gone home to sulk by herself, perhaps with one or two stolen bottles under her arm. She hasn't, though, and he may or may not feel somewhat elated over the fact.

By the time she does decide to talk again, he's also had his fair share of drinking and is comfortably settled in a state of lightheaded bliss.

"Why didn't you?" she asks.

"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate on that, love."

"Why didn't you kill Tyler? Or... something. You said you didn't do anything against him when he fled and then came back no longer sired to you. Why?"

"Because of you," he replies with a candor that can only be attributed to the alcohol.

"Me?" she repeats, her eyes becoming glazed over for a second before refocusing on him. "That doesn't make sense."

"How come?"

"You're into me. _Everyone_ knows that. You gave me one of your precious hybrids in exchange for a total PG date. Why would you spare my boyfriend if you were trying to get in my pants?"

"He's my first hybrid. I once had high hopes for him. Call it sentimental attachment."

"You mean like you were attached to the other 12 you eviscerated?"

"Does it bother you that I _didn't_ murder your boyfriend? Because if I'd known that eliminating Tyler was the key to your heart, I would've done it a long time ago and avoided myself a great deal of torment."

Caroline regards him for a long time. "You didn't kill him because you didn't want me to hate you?" After a pause, she adds, "More?"

"I didn't kill him because, believe it or not, Caroline, I want you to be happy and, unfortunately, that hangs a great deal on that dimwit staying alive. But if he had crossed my path the night I found out about their little plot against me, he would not have outlived his mother. Trust me; there are very few people I loathe as much as Tyler Lockwood at the moment."

The look Caroline gives him then, like she's figuring something out about him, makes Klaus wonder if he spoke too much. His affections for her really are no mystery at this point, but there's only so much he's truly willing to divulge. He cannot remember the last time he became so invested in someone for reasons other than revenge or necessity; probably well over a century since he pursued anyone with such dogged persistence. It's a rare occasion, indeed, for his interest to last for so long. Klaus isn't the type to get attached. If there's one thing he's learned in his very long life is that this sort of ridiculous brand of attraction makes you weak, vulnerable. It's enough that he's got four siblings to worry about. Well, three now - which proves his point. If they would just stay in their coffins, under his strict protection, no harm would ever come their way. Out there, in this dark, dangerous world, he cannot save them all. Why would he ever want to find himself even more trouble by developing inconvenient feelings for yet another person he cannot control?

Somehow, this baby vampire weaseled her way in by chipping away at his armor, nestling got right under his skin, and refuses to leave no matter how hard he tries to shake her. Klaus Mikaelson doesn't chase women, doesn't tone down his own rage or make exceptions for the sake of anyone. But that's exactly what he's been doing for well over a year now, courting a woman who keeps turning him down time and time again. He knows she's not immune to his charms, but she's unrelenting and stubborn, and the more she resists, the more drawn to her he is. He's risked his own safety and plans just to rescue her; he's given up on one of his precious hybrids for a chance to spend a day with her. Sometimes he starts sketching, putting pencil to paper absently, just to get an itch off his mind, only to realize after a while that it's her face he's drawing, her eyes, her lips, her hands. It's pathetic, really, this absurd infatuation, how he simply melts around her. And no amount of disdain or rejection seems to put an end to it.

Still, Klaus' ego is almost as big as his reputation. No one will ever see him begging her for attention, crawling after her. He takes what he can get, sure, makes the most of the opportunities that are presented to him, but there's a limit. And, right now, after almost a whole bottle of bourbon, he might be starting to waver dangerously over that very subtle line.

"I would warn you against abusing your privileges, love," he adds after a moment, a smirk on his face for good measure. "There's only so much I'm willing to overlook before I snap. There are twelve bodies buried in the woods right now that bore witness to what happens when my limited graciousness is put to test."

She doesn't reply, just looks away from him, retiring back into her drink with deep thinking creases on her forehead.

This time, Klaus is grateful for the silence.

* * *

After Klaus finishes his tenth - or twelfth, or maybe fifteenth - glass of bourbon and watches Caroline start to look wobbly on her stool, he decides he should take her home.

"I'm not going home with you," she says drily.

"I'm taking you to your home."

" _You're_ not going home with _me_ either."

"I don't think you'll go very far if you attempt to drive yourself home, love."

"So? It's not like a car crash can kill me."

"Not you, perhaps, but you might still kill other people. What was that about tonight being the busiest night of the year for medical workers?"

"Since when do you care about other people?"

"I don't, although I do think that running them over is a terrible waste of perfectly good dinner. The question is, don't you?"

Klaus takes her lack of response for a reluctant consent. He couldn't care less about her making possible victims on her way home, but who's to say she wouldn't end up driving herself into a tree, which may pierce through the windshield, straight into her heart. Vampires have died more idiotic deaths before.

When he pulls her to her feet, she's so out of balance she tumbles against him, wrapping her arms around his waist to keep from falling. She looks up at him, so close he can see the flecks of green around her irises, count all the freckles across her nose. It's a good thing he can also smell all the alcohol on her breath, or he might do something he would surely regret later. For her sake more so than his own.

* * *

It would be far easier if Caroline would just allow him to carry her, but she insists on this poor imitation of walking on her own two unsteady legs, which means they stumble awkwardly to his car, and then all the way into her house. She flops down on her bed with an audible sigh, blinking slowly. She's going to pass out the second she lays her head on the pillow.

"Congratulations, love. You'll be sporting a hangover in the morning. It takes some serious drinking for a vampire to achieve so," he remarks idly as he takes off her boots. If Caroline even so much as attempts to lean forward to do it herself, she'll be going head-first to the floor. "You probably have more alcohol than blood in you right now. It helps if you feed. O neg seems to -"

"You talk a lot," Caroline interrupts him with a groan. "For a grumpy and enigmatic evil overlord, you like the sound of your own voice _a lot_."

"I can do grumpy and enigmatic just as well. Annoyed and explosive is my favorite, but I'm also an expert at charming and mildly curious."

Caroline looks down at him. "Klaus," she says, very seriously. "I'm a mess here. I'm depressed and lonely and also maybe confused and I don't know if that's the booze or something else, and it's entirely your fault, and you're there being all... _nice_ ," she says, gesticulating absently towards him. "I hate you."

Klaus smirks. "We both know that's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"You like me when I'm nice -"

"No, I don't."

"But you also like me when I’m not."

"I want to _murder_ you when you're not."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart."

Caroline humphs indignantly, but when he tries to stand up, arms snake around his neck and a mouth is smashed against his.

* * *

The suddenness of the movement takes Klaus completely by surprise, finds him unable to react. She pulls him flush against her and they both fall on the bed, his body on top of hers. It takes a second too long, but when the heat finally finds him, it hits with full force. A ripple of excitement runs through his body as she attempts to deepen the kiss, her fingers combing through the hair on the back of his head, and it takes an amount of self-control he doesn't usually possess not to respond.

Were this anyone else - quite literally _anyone_ \- he wouldn't pay half a mind to the state of things. He doesn't usually go about taking advantage of fragile, inebriated creatures, but she kissed him first and he's had his fair share of spirits this evening that his body is quick to respond to. But this isn't anyone, is it? Not some nameless, unremarkable poor sod whose face he wouldn't even remember come morning. It's Caroline. The way his heart is racing right now, the rush in his veins... He wouldn't be getting this if it was just anyone else. Klaus has waited for this moment for too long, anticipated it even, for it to go down as a drunken mistake she will refuse to own up to - or worse, resent him for. And isn't that the one thing capable of putting a hindrance on all of Klaus' most destructive moods these days? The idea of being hated by Caroline Forbes. It disturbs him far more than it should.

"Caroline," he croaks, pulling gently away.

She blinks up at him, probably noticing only now that he wasn't responding to her advances as it would be expected, and something like hurt flashes through her eyes. Klaus feels a bit of a pang, an ache in his chest, the edge of it dulled by the alcohol. She thinks she's being rejected, the poor thing. If only she knew...

"You want to kiss me," she states, not as a question, but with an edge of accusation.

"Not like this. When I kiss you," he starts, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. "It will be because you're ready to admit that you want it. I won't make things easy for you. You don't get an escape from accountability. We can talk about this again when you don't have the convenient excuse of being drunk to pretend you're not dying to kiss me too."

Her expression softens then. She looks bewildered, confused and then a little fond. Klaus smiles in spite of himself. Her eyes gain a new intensity, as though she's trying to unravel a particularly difficult puzzle.

"I don't get you," she says. "You're a royal asshole to everyone, and then to me you're..." Her voice drifts off, like she can't think of the right word. Probably because there isn't one. Even he doesn't know what he is to her. Doesn't fall into any categories he recognizes. _A lovesick fool_ probably describes it well, but that's not what she's thinking. "You make no sense," she continues after a moment, thoughtfully. "Who _are_ you?"

His gaze moves away from her eyes for a spell, to a point above her head. He can hear her heart pounding inside her chest. "I'm a nightmare," he finally offers, disentangling himself from her and getting up.

Before he can move away from her bed, she grabs his hand. "Can you stay?" she asks. He has the obvious answer that it's a bad idea dancing on the tip of his tongue when she adds, "I don't... Want to be alone. Not tonight."

Klaus considers it for a moment - the quiet plea in her eyes, how likely it is that she'll be extremely hurt by him turning her down. He sees the same loneliness that cuts a hole in his chest reflected on her expectant features, that need for human contact to help dissipate some of the anguish. Not that he'll ever admit it, but truth be told, he could use some company himself. Sometimes, even the devil gets lonely.

With a weary sigh, he shrugs off his jacket.

Her whole face lights up as she beams at him, moving to make room next to her on the bed. There's very little Klaus wouldn't do to see that sunshine smile on her face, and it scares him every day to find out exactly how little.

He needs to get out of Mystic Falls. Soon. This place will be his downfall.

She lies on her side, staring intently at him, while he stares at the ceiling. There's a deliberate distance between them - not enough that he doesn't feel a tiny tingle on his skin, but enough for him to resist the temptation.

"I have very high tolerance for alcohol, so I always remember what I do when I'm drunk," she says, sleep making her voice even more slurred. "Even before I became a vampire. So I'll probably remember this tomorrow. But if I act like I don't, don't rub it on my face. I'm being very desperate right now and it's embarrassing, so I'll try to hold on to my dignity once I sober up. Just play along."

"Are you asking me to pretend it never happened?"

"We'll still know it happened. Just... No one else needs to know. And you don't have to be a dick about it."

"So now I'm your dirty little secret, then."

"You've always been my dirty little secret."

His face snaps towards Caroline at her words, but she's already half-asleep, her eyes fluttering close as her lids get too heavy. She probably doesn't even realize she's still talking. It coaxes a smile out of him, anyway. There it is, at last, a confession. It came out in a near whisper, but it is true nonetheless.

Since almost the moment he laid eyes on her, Klaus has wanted nothing more than to have her. The meaning of this has changed significantly over time. First, it just meant he wanted to rip off her clothes and fuck her senseless. Then it meant he wanted to brand her as his, sink his human teeth into her skin and leave as many marks as he could, make her scream his name, make her stay awake at night longing for his touch, mostly to prove a point to Tyler Lockwood, but also because Klaus likes a challenge, and she presented one like he hadn't seen in a long time.

For some time now, however, it's come to mean something else entirely. Something deeper and more personal that spells nothing but complications of the sort he abhors. But he remembers thinking when he saw her walking through the door on his mother's ball, wearing the dress he gave her, the most perfect thing he'd ever seen - thinking that he'd found something precious. He wasn't fully aware at the time, still stuck on his initial impression that his appreciation for her was purely physical, ephemeral, that all it'd take for him to get her off his system was one night. He knows better now.

It's even truer tonight, with the sliver of moonlight stealing in through the curtains to light her face as she sleeps next to him, comfortable and peaceful.

Instead of running, as the rare voice of reason in his head tells him to, to go feast in some pretty thing's neck to clear his mind, he stretches out a hand and puts a lock of blond hair behind her ear, the tips of his fingers ghosting gently against the side of her face. He's suddenly itching for a piece of paper and a pencil; it's the face he'd like to wake up to every morning.

Caroline Forbes will be the end of him.

**Fin**

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! :) Happy New Year, my beautiful dudes! 🎉


End file.
